


Lux

by missmungoe



Category: One Piece
Genre: F/M, a 'what went down at Baltigo' fic, or: kissing is a good way to deal with near-death experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9459575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmungoe/pseuds/missmungoe
Summary: He's not the only one who's allowed to do stupidly reckless things.Of course – she hadn't expected a reaction quite like this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Writing these two is my new stress relief.

She was the one who got him out of tight fixes. It was just the way they worked – like a much-practised routine or a dance, the steps as familiar as breathing. He’d get them into trouble, she’d get them out of it, and often with a lecture and a well-placed pinch to emphasise her point, either to his stomach or his cheek, whichever was within reach.

(it had been easier when he hadn’t been quite so  _tall_ , and it was testament to just how long they’d been doing it, that she’d had to adjust for his teenage growth spurt)

And he might smile at her antics and laugh it off, but he’d never once been ungrateful for her help, or ignorant of his penchant for being entirely too impulsive. And often (like when she’s patching him up after a mission, shaking fingers tugging the bandages a little too tight and letting slip more than just fond irritation) he’d catch her hand in a grip that spoke volumes where his voice didn’t –  _thank you_  and  _I’m sorry_ and  _I’ll do better._ And if she had injuries of her own there’d be a furrow between his brows that would speak even louder.

(she’s never dared imagine the words behind that look, knowing there’s a fine line between friendly concern and – and that other kind, the more intimate one where her hope lives, stubbornly and despite her better judgement)

But even wearing that look, she’d only flick his nose, and tell him not to worry – another kind of dance, this one of forgiving and forgetting, and for all her lectures and minor instances of bodily harm, her anger never lasted long where he was concerned. He’d get them into trouble, she’d get them out, and they both knew their respective parts with their eyes closed.

Of course, with his track record of poor decision-making when it came to his own well-being, Koala figured that if she ever wanted to do something truly, mind- _bogglingly_  reckless, she’d more than earned the right.

Although in hindsight, wilfully planting herself in the path of one of the Yonkou was probably overkill.

She’d been busy trying to get everyone off the island when she’d caught the tail-end of the battle – had seen the familiar sunburst glare of the  _mera mera_ fruit at the corner of her eye, before something had snuffed it out, and in the same breath she’d spun on her heel and  _bolted_ , desperation reaching deep enough within her to dredge up a reaction so visceral she’d only realised what she’d done after her palm had made contact with its intended target.

She felt the shock of it shooting up her arm, but the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping through her system drove the pain from her mind before it had time to properly register, along with whatever fear she might have felt once, staring up at a man who _towered_ – like the shadows in her nightmares did, except his was even darker; the kind of darkness that seemed to eat up all the light.

“ _Goddamn_ –” Blackbeard spat, grimace contorting his once-grinning features as he smoothed a hand over the place she’d struck – solar plexus, no holding back. A blow forceful enough to topple anyone else, but all she’d been able to do was make him stagger back a step. Still, the pain she’d inflicted was evident, and when he lifted his gaze to take her in, he didn’t bother hiding his irritation – or his surprise. “Where the hell did you come from?”

She was acutely aware of Sabo’s prone form at her back, half-sprawled in the dirt, no flames lapping at her periphery now, and it took all her willpower to keep her gaze level and fixed on the man in front of her – to not glance back, and in doing so leave herself completely open.

A wheezing breath from behind her, and, “ _Koala_ –”

“Hey,” Blackbeard said, still rubbing against the spot on his chest, petulance etched into his features now, and Koala curled her fingers towards her palms. “No offence, girly, but we kind of already had a thing going here.”

Koala didn’t budge, arms still raised in a defensive stance, the muscles in her back coiled tight with tension begging for release, even as her stomach felt like it might fall out from underneath her at any moment. Her earlier burst of panic and adrenaline settling, she was brutally reacquainted with what she’d interfered with, and she took in the sight before her – that all-consuming darkness that leeched at the little light yielded by the flames climbing towards the night sky in the distance, although Sabo’s remained, completely extinguished.

But she forced herself to focus on the little things – the earnest grimace on his face, not near so terrible as the detached smiles from her memory. And however dark that heart, at least there was still a shred of humanity left in it.

She’d faced worse.

“Back off,” she said calmly, and hoped the slight quaver in her voice wasn’t too noticeable.

If it was, Blackbeard didn’t seem to care. “Listen,” he said, and seemed more put-off by her interference than angry. “I’ve got no beef with you, so if you retract those tiny fists I’ll let you off easy, eh? Hell, with how you throw your punches I might even let you join my crew once I’m through with this place.” He slid a glance to Sabo at her back, “And once I’ve got my new devil fruit.”

Something almost _viscous_ expanded behind her breast at the callous remark, but she couldn’t tell if she was too angry to get anything remotely coherent out, or if it was something else that lodged her words at the bottom of her throat.

“Koala,” came Sabo’s voice from behind her then, the syllables broken by a cough, but she didn’t so much as incline her head to look at him, gaze fixed intently on the pirate in front of her. “You can’t take him.”

There was a half-hysteric laugh threatening at the back of her tongue, and she was tempted to snap that she knew that – of course she did, but she swallowed the words and forced herself to remain calm. But even if she managed to curb her reaction her anger remained, because didn’t he understand that it wasn’t about whether or not she could take him? That whether or not she even had a realistic chance of landing another hit didn’t matter in the least, because if she didn’t  _try_ – if she stepped out of the way, giving Blackbeard a clear path he might–

“You should listen to Blondie, you know,” Blackbeard mused. “Smarter than his brothers, I’ll give him that. Well,” he added with a snort, “Still just as easy to bait.” He tilted his head, as though to consider them both, before his grin widened. “In fact, I bet if I said I’d take girly here with me, you’d get back on your feet pretty quickly, eh?”

She heard Sabo cursing under his breath, and when Blackbeard threw his head back with a laugh, as though he’d had his point proven, Koala had to fight to keep from physically recoiling at the sound.

“So what about it, Curly?” Blackbeard said then, the question directed at Sabo. “You’re looking a little worse for wear, but I’ll give you another go. ‘Course, I’ve done this particular tango before, so I know how it goes. And Commander Ace knew how to use that fruit for all it was worth. You’ve had it what, a few weeks?”

“ _Don’t_ call him that,” Sabo spat, and Koala couldn’t see him, but from the sound of shuffling against the dirt she thought he might be trying to lift himself up. “You don’t have the right to call him that.”

“Sabo-kun, you shouldn’t–”

“Koala, _move_.”

She didn’t look at him, but she squared her shoulders, and with her voice entirely level – “No.”

A sigh fell then, sounding almost exaggerated, as though the whole thing was one great inconvenience, and, “ _Fine_ ,” Blackbeard said. “Alright, nee-chan. Since you’re not gonna budge, I’ll take you on first. Let’s see how those tiny fists hold up against a devil fruit.”

Then, his grin widening, and Koala had the sinking feeling that he had no particular interest in actually fighting her – that he’d only found a way to goad his opponent and was seizing the opportunity for all it was worth, because she’d been foolish enough to give him the chance – “Or two,” he added, spreading his arms wide, as though in mockery of a welcome.

But she didn’t move – didn’t budge so much as an inch, heels planted firmly and her hands raised, knuckles white beneath her gloves. And she thought back to all her hard training, every stumble and fall and successful hit, bones fracturing under her hands and bruises blooming on skin where she’d struck. She’d persevered, and she’d faced _worse_ – had fought worse enemies than this man, and with more than just her fists.

This wasn’t a battle she could win, and she knew it with a sudden but calm certainty – like an almost detached recognition of fact, although it wasn’t fear that kept her rooted to the spot. Rather, it was a decision that allowed her breath to shudder out with a sigh, and for her shoulders to relax.

_Do you know what it means?_

She’d asked Sabo once, when they’d been younger, at the heels of a training session that had left them sprawling in the dirt, watching the sun sink low in the sky beyond Baltigo’s whitewashed stone and jagged peaks.

_Sabo-kun, do you know what it means – the sunburst mark?_

_The one on your back? It’s a pirate mark, isn’t it?_

_Yeah, but…it’s more than that._

He’d looked at her, head titled and expression questioning, and she’d tracked the path of the setting sun, shielding her eyes with her palm.

 _Nothing’s ever so dark that the sun can’t reach it,_ she’d said, watching the wide expanse of the open sky stretching above their heads. And the words were familiar, although she couldn’t remember who’d spoken them to her – one of the slaves from her childhood, Koala thought, although it had always saddened her, the fact that she’d forgotten.

He’d offered no verbal reply, and there’d been a moment she’d felt foolish for saying it, but when he’d risen to his feet he’d offered a hand to help her up. And she knew he’d kept the words with him, because he’d bandied them right back at her years later, flames climbing along his arms, an extension of his being, and with his grin even brighter he’d laughed–

_Remember what you told me, Koala? About the sun?_

She’d stuck her tongue out in response and told him it wasn’t the same, but she hadn’t been able to hold back her laughter at the crestfallen look on his face. And she’d kept the words tucked beneath her tongue – the confession that she’d watched him train, his curls cast in gold from the sun and his grin bright as the fire yielded to his commands, and thought exactly those words.

And maybe it was fitting that it would be what she remembered now, watching that cloying darkness obscure her vision even before she clenched her eyes shut, that terrible laughter reaching through the black void towards her. And her name, the familiar syllables wrapped around a hoarse shout–

**_“Koala!”_ **

A great gust of wind  _shoved_  against her back, nearly enough to knock her off her feet, but a hand on her shoulder steadied her, and suddenly the darkness was gone, as though physically pushed back.

Then Dragon was there, expression grim and gaze fixed on Blackbeard, and – “Go,” came the order, the too-calm cadence of his voice brooking no argument.

And with her heart in her throat and no time to even feel relief, Koala spun on her heel, turning her back without a second thought now and making for Sabo.

He’d pushed himself up on his knees, and he didn’t protest when she slipped under his arm, but she figured it might have something to do with the fact that he was half-unconscious on his feet. There was a steady trickle of blood making its way down his temple, turning his curls brittle copper, but when she hoisted him up she felt his grip tighten around her shoulders, and his eyes lost some of their unfocused glaze.

And they’d done this before too, more times than she could count. The weight of him across her shoulders was familiar, and she’d borne it enough times to adjust her stance without thinking now, fitting him against her side despite their difference in height. But now that she’d had time to react – for the realisation to dawn that they were neither of them dead, despite what she’d braced herself for, the fact that she could feel him breathing was such a _relief_ Koala lost her footing for a moment, staggering forward a step.

Sabo’s hand curved under her elbow, and some of his weight lifted off her – enough for her to regain her balance, but she couldn’t make herself meet his eyes. For some reason, she couldn’t lift her gaze to look at him, and to see what was on his face – if it was the same relief she felt, or something harder; an echo of what she felt in the grip around her elbow, his fingers digging into her skin, searingly warm even through the fabric of her blouse.

But – “Come on,” she managed, pushing forward to where Dragon’s ship was anchored – where she’d been busy directing the others before she’d up and abandoned her post without a backwards glance.

Sabo said nothing, and that alone was telling enough, but she didn’t look at him as she helped him down the path they’d walked a hundred times before, past the fighting and toward the sliver of dark sea and sky in the distance. The stars were mostly obscured by the smoke, and the pressing darkness was an ominous echo of the one at their backs, the mere thought of it making her breaths feel suddenly heavy in her chest, panic shoving up her throat like bile–

Then there were other hands helping, and Sabo’s weight across her shoulders vanished completely. And there were questions – offered to the second-in-command in lieu of their missing leader, but she couldn’t make herself focus on what they were saying. And in the tumult she lost track of what was happening, dimly aware that she ought to be paying more attention, that there were others depending on her, but she couldn’t seem to focus beyond the golden flash of his curls in her periphery, and the blood that had begun to seep into the collar of his shirt, staining his cravat.

Before she could sit down and allow herself to relax she was moving, a decision taking hold of her, directing her movements, across the deck towards him. And there were no protests, not from Sabo or the others gathered as she pushed him towards the crew’s quarters, intent on finding a suture-kit for the cut on his brow – to make her hands do something other than shake, and when he still said nothing Koala thought she’d never been more thankful for anything in her life.

Her hands were still shaking as she closed the door behind them, and he still hadn’t spoken – not a single word offered since she’d pulled him away from the battle. And she had a thought that he might be worried, except they both knew better, given who it concerned.

But even so – “Dragon-san will be fine,” Koala heard herself saying, the words spoken to his back. He stood across the cabin, turned away from her, his hands hanging slack against his sides, but she could see the tension in his shoulders, the muscles coiled tight beneath his coat.

A sigh, shuddering out of her. “Sabo-kun–”

He turned then, hard gaze meeting hers, before he started toward her. And there was a second where she thought he was going to push past her – to go back to shore despite her assurances, and pick up the fight that had nearly gotten him killed. And there was a protest at the tip of her tongue, a  _what do you think you’re doing_ , but it was abruptly cut off by his hands in her hair, before he crushedhis mouth against hers.

At first she was too startled to respond, something that might have been his name swallowed with the kiss, too hard for any kind of tenderness, but between the desperate grip of his fingers in her hair and the warmth of him pressed flush against her, there was a moment where she yielded – enough to sink against him, a single breath of surrender.

Then with next breath she was pushing  _back_ , fingers buried in his shirt and her lips parting under his as his tongue dipped into her mouth, the heat of the kiss as unnatural as the rest of him under her hands, enough to make her feel lightheaded. And there was a thought that she should pull back – that this wasn’t how they did things, but it was forgotten with the thread of his fingers through her hair, tugging hard enough to hurt.

And it was the pain that cleared her head – the sting in her lip and against her scalp, but when she drew back, heaving for breath, he didn’t step away. Instead Sabo yielded his weight, his strength seeming to physically bleed out of him, and there was a brief moment of panic before she felt his breath shudder against her skin where he’d buried his nose in her throat. And when he sank to his knees Koala followed, half-curled around him, the embrace an awkward but achingly desperate thing.

His brow rested heavy on her shoulder, and she knew he had to feel how fast her heart was racing. And it was an effort trying to get her mind to catch up with the rest of her, with _everything_ , and she didn’t know which of them was holding the other one up, but going by how much she was shaking Koala wondered if she would have been able to stand if she’d attempted it.

There was something wet against her skin then, and she lifted a hand to touch her fingers against the blood that had trickled anew from the cut on his brow. And then her anger came rearing back – a sudden, terrified surge of feeling so violent she almost feared she might throw up from it.

Shaking fingers curled towards her palm, she punched his arm – then his chest, again and again, but she had no strength to put behind the punches, and her anger couldn’t keep the sob from pulling loose, an ugly, broken sound.

“ _Idiot_ ,” she choked out, tears spilling over now, pushing past the shock and the fury that had kept her from breaking down earlier. And she didn’t care that the word broke – that it sounded more like another sob than the hard admonition she’d meant for it to be.

And she didn’t know if they were from anger or fear, but she couldn’t see through the tears now, her vision blurring, although when she clenched her eyes shut there was no respite; all she found was the image of his back bent in the dirt, and the flames guttering out under that oppressing dark–

“Why?” Koala heard then, his voice a low rasp against her shoulder, and she couldn’t tell if he sounded angry or tired. “Why did you–” but he couldn’t seem to finish the question, whatever he’d meant for it to be, and so, “Don’t do that again,” Sabo said instead, and she felt his grip tighten around her back – felt the press of his palm through the fabric of her blouse, right below her shoulder blades where the brand sat. “Promise me you won’t–”

Sucking in a breath, she pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. “I’m not making that promise.”

She felt him tense, but before he could speak – “I have your back,” she said, the words firm. An old truth. “And you have mine. That’s how it’s always been. You– you get us into trouble, and I get us out of it.” A familiar dance with familiar steps, except it felt nothing like it now, and for once in their long partnership Koala had no idea what came next.

Nothing tonight had followed their usual protocol – not her blatant interference or reckless behaviour, or him pushing right past whatever careful boundary had always existed between them, with a kiss she could still _feel_ , and which didn’t just hint at unspoken feelings but which had declared them with all the subtlety of a bare-knuckled fist. Which was usually her thing.

The warmth of his hand didn’t disappear from where he kept it pressed against her back, but, “Not this time,” Sabo said, and she felt the way his fingers shook, despite the tight grip he kept around her. “I’m not dragging you into this fight.”

She swallowed. “I wasn’t asking for permission.”

A sigh, and she heard his frustration before he spoke, “Koala–”

“Idiot,” she said, but the word was softer now, and when she flattened her palms against his back she felt him sinking under her touch. Then – “ _Idiot_ ,” she said again, and with a sob that trickled out almost like a laugh, except it held no humour. “I have your back,” she repeated, and didn’t care that her voice wavered now. “So will you just let me have it already?”

She felt his exhale against her collar. “Do I get a say in the matter?”

She tried for a smile, even knowing he couldn’t see it, and when it faltered she tucked her nose against his shoulder, along with her answer. “No.”

Sabo said nothing to that, but she felt him tighten his grip around her. Her legs were falling asleep beneath her, and she knew he couldn’t be doing much better, but he didn’t make a move to release her, or rise to his feet.

“Hey,” she said then, as she sketched her palms up the length of his back, to where his hair curled at the nape of his neck. “Nothing’s ever so dark,” she murmured, the words old, but she hoped he heard the truth in them now, like he had once.

He remained quiet, but she felt his response in the way his hand twitched against her back, the heat of his skin seeping through her shirt, hot against the brand.

And she knew it wasn’t the end of it – knew that he’d never acquiesce so easily, just as she knew this battle was far from over. Because for all her faith in Dragon’s abilities, she knew he’d prioritise getting them all to safety over challenging Blackbeard head on. And it sat like a weight at the bottom of her stomach, the realisation that Sabo wasn’t likely to let it slide, along with the words she couldn’t quite forget–

_–knew how to use that fruit for all it was worth. You’ve had it what, a few weeks?_

He was so warm, and she fixed her gaze on his hair, the gold dulled and caked with dried blood, but his breaths were heavy beneath her palms, and the steady rise and fall of his chest helped settle her heart somewhat.

“Nothing,” Koala repeated, so quietly she wondered if he’d even caught it, but she felt the shiver that shot through him when she touched her lips gently to the juncture of his neck. But it didn’t matter if he hadn’t heard – the promise was there anyway, tucked against his skin where his pulse leaped to meet her, and where she hoped it would remain, a brand in its own right. A gentler reminder than the one she carried, but no less true.

Things had changed, tonight – not her feelings, or even his, Koala suspected. But where the shift had made it possible to cross the line they’d barely even toed before, it had also solidified what she’d felt, stepping into Blackbeard’s path without a second thought – the realisation that she couldn’t imagine a world without him, and that if it should happen, the old words she’d so long carried with her, from her days in slavery to her freedom, would be lost along with him.

 _No_ – she wouldn’t allow it. And if that meant she had to drag him back from the dark with her own two hands, then so be it.

“I can’t feel my legs,” Sabo spoke then, the words ghosting against her shoulder with a breathless laugh. And if he’d caught on to where her thoughts had gone, or the decision that had come to settle within her, he didn’t let on – and she had a feeling he might have protested, if he’d known.

“You’re the one who got us into this position,” Koala said, but instead of making a move to get up, or to push him off, she rested her cheek against his shoulder.

She felt his sigh as it dragged loose of him. “Sorry,” he said, and for a moment the word sounded almost sheepish. “About the– I wasn’t thinking straight.”

The implicit mention of the kiss had warmth settling in her cheeks – along with something that dropped, a pleasant curl of heat low in her stomach.

She rolled the words around on her tongue, considering them before she spoke, “You could have given me a warning.”

“Yeah, sor–”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

He fell quiet, and she wondered suddenly, desperately, what he was thinking – if she’d gone a step too far with that remark, and ruined it.

But then – “It wasn’t how I’d imagined it,” Sabo said at length, the words offered against her neck, right beneath her ear, as though it was easier speaking them where she couldn’t see his face.

Despite herself – despite this whole, hellish mess of a night, Koala felt her smile as it tugged at her mouth. “How did you imagine it?”

His silence persisted, and she felt his hand at her back, fingers plucking at the fabric of her shirt, the gesture almost nervous. And she might have let him suffer, if only as punishment for his anger earlier, but this wasn’t like how they usually did things – she had no desire to offer a lecture, or to pinch his ear until he cried uncle. Whatever they’d been before tonight, it wasn’t what they were now – at least, it wasn’t what she wanted them to be. And she thought – _hoped,_ feeling the press of his nose beneath her ear, the gesture far too tender for friendship – that he might feel the same.

And so, heart leaping against her ribcage, the words were quiet when she offered them, softer than she was known to be, but for once Koala couldn’t have cared less–

“Show me?”


End file.
